It lay buried beneath snow,encased in ice,under a canopy of white held aloft by the trees.

I had been walking,focusing,as I often do,on the clouds of steam rising from my mouth,and what they meant to me,when my foot caught hold of the crumbling cross,and sent me tumbling down...down...down...

I caught myself on hands in a sea of crystal white,flesh stinging from the cold,my foot aching in pain,burning hot in the winter wood.

Why would there be a grave here?

What poor soul would be forever lost in this hollow?

Carefully,in the cold,throughout the fading light,and into a darkness of falling snow,I worked to unmask the grave,and reveal the name of the damned.

I toiled for hours,until my fingers went numb and bled,spilling red upon the white,a contrast so stark in hurt my eyes,but in such beauty that was not lost on me,until I could reveal the faint carvings that were letters.

Her name was as beautiful as I'm sure she was in life,and I could not help but smile as the sun crested the hill,bringing with it warmth,and life,to this forgotten,frozen land.

I left her there,revealed from the snow,vowing to return in the spring.